


One Last Summer

by starsofthemars



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Childhood Memories, Established Dreamnap, Later Poly Dream Team, M/M, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Character Death, Summer, Summer Romance, the first chapter is kind of set up sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:48:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28849329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starsofthemars/pseuds/starsofthemars
Summary: After the death of a loved one, George returns to the town he spent his summers in during his childhood. The house he's staying in is full of memories he'd rather not think about. He feels like they might break him. Though he intends to spend the entire summer moping, reconnecting with some old friends is making that seem less than likely. A meeting with two boys further draws him out of his grief, blossoming into a friendship that soon begins to become something more.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Kudos: 11





	One Last Summer

**Author's Note:**

> cw: skipping meals, not an eating disorder, but not eating (just this chapter, probably)

Standing here, looking out at the familiar scene...it's surreal. Blossomwood. He hasn’t been back here in years, and he can practically feel the memories pouring out of the old house. George shoves away any feelings that surface at the sight of the house, slamming the trunk of the car shut. He grips his suitcase by the handle, climbing the porch stairs. His footsteps sound empty on the wood. He presses down on one of the floorboards with one hand, the other end lifting up like a seesaw. He picks up the house key from underneath, turning it in the screen door, then unlocking the front door. The house is dark, aside from the light that filters in from the windows, and while that’s not unusual, it still brings an empty feeling to the pit of his stomach. Dust dances in the sunbeams. The house still looks lived in, to his dismay, despite the fact that it’s devoid of any inhabitants. He climbs the stairs, eyes not straying from their gaze on the floor. The door to his old bedroom opens with a creak, and he enters. As he steps inside, it almost feels as though he’s gone back in time, gone back to being his seventeen year-old-self. There’s still the unfinished stack of books on his desk, the awkward angle he positioned his clock in to make it visible from the windowsill on the last night he had spent here. He feels the urge to sink to his knees and stay there, but he pushes further into the room placing his suitcase at the foot of his bed. He just has to keep moving. If he stops, he’s not sure he’ll be able to start again. He moves his clothes out of his suitcase, storing them away in his dresser, alongside all his old clothes. Once finished, he isn’t sure what to do with himself. He sits down on his bed. There’s no food in the house, he knows. He’ll buy some tomorrow, he decides. He doesn’t think he has it in him right now. He falls back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. In the darkness of the room (he hadn’t turned on the light when he came in), the only light comes in from the dying sun outside the open curtains. It’s just bright enough for him to see the curves of the paintbrush strokes that cover the ceiling. He traces the shape with his eyes, over and over, until he passes out.  
When he wakes up, the late morning sun is already forcing its rays through the glass. He changes out of the clothes he had worn on his trip here, pulling on a new shirt and a pair of jeans. He slides his phone into his pocket. Summer here is too warm for hoodies, a fact he’s despised ever since he was little, but she had loved the warm weather. He pushes the thought down. Maybe tomorrow he’ll let himself reminisce.  
He shuts the screen door behind him, clicking the lock in place. She had almost always left the door unlocked, but it’s been four years since he was here last, and he can’t bring himself to place that same blind trust in the residents, not like she always did. He walks to the store, the automatic doors sliding open, the interior of the grocery cool enough to make him shiver. He knows this place like the back of his hand, just like most of the town, but he presses that down, looking at the store as though he’s never seen it before, grabbing one of the plastic baskets that sits near the door. He checks out quietly, the cashiers not striking up any sort of conversation. He carries the groceries back home, bag heavy on his shoulder. As he approaches the house, he notices two men on the sidewalk, chatting as they walk past. They’re going slowly, not in any sort of hurry, as he nears them. He turns off the sidewalk, crossing the lawn to the porch, fumbling with the keys for a moment. He swears he can feel the men’s eyes on him as he hears their conversation come to a stop, but he refuses to look back over his shoulder. He finally turns the key, wrenching the door open, slamming shut behind him as he hurriedly carries the food to the kitchen. When he looks back outside the window, the two men are gone. 

“Dream!”  
“I’m coming!” He slams the door shut, running out to the sidewalk where the younger is waiting.  
“Took you long enough.”  
“You’re one to talk, do you know how hard it is to wake you up in the morning?”  
“That’s mean, Dreamie. Besides, you said it was cute.” Dream’s cheeks flush slightly.  
“No I didn’t! And even if I did, that was before I knew how much of a pain you can be.”  
“You always knew I was annoying, don’t try to pin this on me. You have only yourself to blame.”  
“Even if that’s true, you’re still an idiot.”  
“Hey, now, that’s uncalled for,” Sapnap says, pouting in false hurt. “I speak nothing but the truth.”  
“Oh, shut up.” They go on walks like this sometimes. They have no real destination, just enjoying the time together. It’s nice, wandering aimlessly, not having anything they need to do. It’s one of Dream’s favorite things. Their hands link together, and he lets Sapnap lead the way. They turn down a side street, then turn again, walking past rows of houses. They reach a street they don’t often frequent, but Dream isn’t paying much attention.  
“Remember that one lady who used to live here?” He glances around, before seeing the house they’re standing in front of.  
“Yeah, but she left like a year ago, didn’t she? Her house has been empty since then.”  
“Do you think she died? I hope not. She was always so nice whenever I saw her.”  
“Maybe. Probably not, she was pretty young.” Sapnap suddenly squeezes his hand, attention focused on the old house.  
“Dream, look.” There’s a man at the door of the house. He looks about their age, and he’s holding a grocery bag. The door opens, and he enters the house quickly, door slamming loudly behind him.  
"I thought the house was empty."  
"I thought so too, and look, there's a car in the driveway."  
"Let's go, it's getting late." They move on, but something about the man sticks in Dream's head.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a few notes: George is like 21-22 here, and the name of the house is Blossomwood, which is meant to sound sort of cheesy even in-universe. The name will be explained more later


End file.
